


Ultimate Give

by softieghost



Series: Another First Time [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Yuri Plisetsky, Breathplay, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Yuri Plisetsky, I mean it's technically not crossdressing since yuri is nb, I wrote porn without emotional torment for once, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Sub Yuri Plisetsky, Top Otabek Altin, go me, it's not really mentioned but i've literally never written cis yuri so I'm gonna tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softieghost/pseuds/softieghost
Summary: “Do you remember what I said when we met in Barcelona?” Otabek said as he set his fork down with a soft clink.“What was that?” Yuri prompted, even though he had an inkling of where this was going. He just wanted to hear it again.“Yuri Plisetsky has the unforgettable eyes of a soldier. You looked intense then and you look the same now, like you want something. What do you need, baby?” Otabek was leaning forward into Yuri’s space. They were almost close enough to feel each other’s breath.





	Ultimate Give

Yuri ran his fingers through his hair, now long enough to pass just over his collar bones, while he examined his naked body in the mirror in his bedroom. There was a bruise fading on his left ass cheek and hip from a hard fall a few weeks ago. There was a tattoo on the inside of his right elbow – the Olympic rings, put there two years ago after getting gold in Pyeongchang with Beka by his side with silver hanging around his neck. Their tattoos matched. They’d kissed for the first time after getting them. Under that was an ugly red rash from some gross lotion Mila had given him.

The matte black bag at his feet rustled when he accidently stepped into it while he changed poses and tried to decide how to wear his hair. Otabek liked when he braided one side and let it hang loose on the other so he did that, sweeping up the left into small braids and pinning them with two small diamond clips that glittered when he turned his head just right. He was looking to get what he wanted tonight, after all, so he might as well make Beka happy at dinner.

His makeup was kept light since he would be (hopefully) sweating it off later anyway. Foundation, highlighter, and subtle eyeshadow made him look fresh and glowing like he did when he exited the rink after a performance. Otabek always said he looked the most beautiful when he was stepping into skate guards knowing he had just cinched gold.

Anticipation began to bubble in his stomach as he got dressed. The white dress he pulled out of the black bag he stepped on earlier felt silky and smooth in his hands. Underneath it, though, was what he was most excited to wear that evening. He pulled out baby blue panties, all lace and easy sex, and looked at them for a second while he smirked at how clever he was. They slid on over his shaved legs and onto his ass, stretched just right. They even made his bruise look sexy with how they fit on him.

The dress slid right on over his head. Its off-the-shoulder neckline highlighted his strong shoulders and the tops of his pecs but the long sleeves hid his muscular arms. It fell just above his knee, which would be cheeky enough, but a slit up the front right made him down right delicious. The nude pumps, Louboutins because what else would he ever wear on his feet, made his legs looks like they were miles long. He knew he was beautiful but that wasn’t important right now because what was important was the swirling almost-drunk feeling in his stomach as he fastened a diamond choker around his neck and puffed on cologne, making him smell masculine. Otabek once said the contrast made his mouth water and Yuri was hoping for just that reaction tonight.

With one last look at himself Yuri was out the door, purse hanging off his shoulder and keys in hand. Otabek had left the motorcycle in his complex’s carpark before he left for his sponsorship meeting, opting to not have helmet hair when he was hoping to walk away with a lucrative deal but that meant Yuri was able to sling his leg over the driver’s seat with his dress hiked up too far and spiked heels pressing into the side. His tiger striped helmet completed the look and he was off, heading towards their favorite restaurant.

The purr of the bike’s engine shook Yuri to the core. The first time Beka brought his bike to Russia Yuri damn near collapsed at the idea of being able to wrap his arms around his friend, again, and ride and ride and ride. They travelled through St. Petersburg for three weeks on the back of that bike and Yuri cried for the loss if it just as much as he did for the loss of Beka. Now, though, Beka was back (and cooler than ever) so Yuri was able to ride it for another three weeks. He even drove it now, too, even though he didn’t have a license.

One of Yuri’s favorite things was to throw on a dress or a skirt and ride around when he had the time and Beka was gone for the day. The thrill of having men with grease stains and beards look him up and down and try to holler at him, _hey sexy sweetie baby mami beautiful_ , and then pull off his helmet at the red light and jut his jawline out just right so they knew, _oh, she’s not what I thought._ That thrill was above almost everything; it was Viktor’s surprise with a twist worthy of Plisetsky’s tongue.

None of that mattered, though, when he was going to Otabek. The risk wasn’t worth it when he was already about to risk everything when he pulled Otabek into his bedroom. As often as they had sex Yuri had never asked for what he really wanted and it had become an uncomfortable itch under his skin.

But that was later.

This, the green light that made him rev the engine even though he was only two blocks away, was now.

Walking into the restaurant Yuri felt nothing but power as he clicked his heels on the hard floor and waiters turned to look at him. He bypassed the maître d’ without so much as a glance and walked to the far back table where they usually sat. Otabek’s head was bowed low like he was looking at something but Yuri knew it was him – if he could spot those shoulders from the inside of a pitch black club he could spot them here in his favorite suit.

“How’d it go?” Yuri said in place of an introduction. He slid into the chair across of Otabek and leaned in to snag his phone out of his hands.

“It was – “ Otabek started, looking up. He didn’t finish, though, when he caught sight of the way Yuri’s hair fell over his shoulder on unblemished skin and the way his white dress hugged his body and the flash of diamonds at his throat and the side of his head.

“Um. Good. It was really good and also you look stunning. I’d rather talk about how you look.”

Yuri winked and ran his hands through his hair but dodged the question because leaving Otabek hanging (and panting and edging and all number of things) was one of his most favorite hobbies.

“It’s good you were in the city around now so you could meet them. They were good to me so they’ll be good to you.”

The low light of the restaurant made Otabek’s already intense stare even harsher and Yuri preened under it. Every flick of his gaze down to Yuri’s chest and sip of wine from the delicate crystal glass and shrug of his shoulders made Yuri’s excitement bubble harder in his stomach. If Yuri wasn’t used to this kind of hours-long teasing thing that Otabek was an unknown master of he’d be half hard under the table but as it were he was squashing down every bit of arousal that threatened to disturb his composure. Tonight was going to be special for him and he needed to stay calm if he wanted to go right.

“Do you remember what I said when we met in Barcelona?” Otabek said as he set his fork down with a soft _clink_.

“What was that?” Yuri prompted, even though he had an inkling of where this was going. He just wanted to hear it again.

“Yuri Plisetsky has the unforgettable eyes of a soldier. You looked intense then and you look the same now, like you want something. What do you need, baby?” Otabek was leaning forward into Yuri’s space. They were almost close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“I have a request. But let’s talk about that later, hm?” Yuri pulled back and settled into his chair again. He spread his arms out against the back of the chair and let his sleeves flutter around his hands and perfectly painted blue nails.

“So it’s going to be like that?” Otabek countered. He leaned back in a perfect mirror of his partner before picking at his food again. They made small talk within the tension of the corner of the restaurant for the rest of the evening, avoiding the topic but eye-fucking all the same.

Otabek paid for the food, subtly taking the check without allowing Yuri to even look at it. The waiter referred to Yuri as a woman and he smiled cat-like up at him. Otabek told him he looked like a tiger that way. Hungry, dangerous, and wishing to be touched so he could take what he wanted before swatting away the gift-giver. It was the best compliment Yuri had ever received.

Yuri drove them home under the premise of Otabek’s singular glass of wine but doing it in reality because he needed the last flash of power he could before he gave the ultimate give.

As soon as the bike was parked Otabek’s hands were on Yuri, running down his sides and up into the slit of the dress. His fingers brushed the lace of the panties and he pulled away before pushing back in again, harder, in a facsimile of the way he fucked. His force made Yuri walk backwards and bump into a concrete pillar but he didn’t stop there, already in Yuri’s space, oh no, he pressed forward still and latched his mouth on Yuri’s neck above his choker and pawed at his hips to grind them together. He was already taking control like he knew Yuri wanted. He was already hard in his suit pants.

He backed off, making a rush of cool air thread its way between their now separated bodies. He was teasing again. Yuri wiggled free in the tiny amount of space he had and grabbed Otabek’s hand to pull him out of the dim gray light of the garage under his apartment. They ran, together, to the elevator that would drop them off on the right floor where they kissed sloppy and wet and needy until a little ping told them to disembark. It was difficult to stay focused in the hallway when they both took turns pushing the other into the walls and doors while they stumbled like they were drunk and not stone-cold sober to Yuri’s door.

Yuri pushed Otabek through the entryway.

“Wait for me.” He huffed, voice already low and needy.

Otabek stood still, though, not listening to Yuri’s instruction. Yuri had to put his hands on Otabek’s chest and lean in to shove him through the living room and into Yuri’s bedroom but Otabek put up a bit of a fight, his playful smile letting Yuri know he was enjoying it. He loved being manhandled.

Once Yuri had Otabek sitting on the bed, promising not to touch himself or get undressed, Yuri ran back to bathroom where another shopping bag was stashed. He tugged the bra top out of the bag and carefully clasped it onto himself, admiring the way the lace looked like petals on his chest before pulling on matching stockings and a garter belt. All of the baby blue and gold lace decorated his body in a way he knew Otabek would drool for. He was like some kind of erotic present, dressed up just to get undressed a few minutes later. He adjusted his half-hard cock in his panties and took a deep breath before stepping into the hallway with gently clicking heels.

“Beka! Open the door but don’t look. Sit back down on the bed with your eyes closed, okay?” He called through the closed door. This part was dumb but he couldn’t do anything, not when he needed to strike a pose.

The door swung open and Yuri was able to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend’s straining cock tucked down his pant leg before he turned to walk away with a hand over his face.

“Open ‘em, baby.”

Otabek’s jaw dropped as he took Yuri in. Bathed in the yellow light of the bedroom lamp Yuri looked angelic – if angels were tall men in lingerie with hard dicks and years of skating abuse built into their bones. The diamonds at his neck and in his hair seemed to sparkle doubly-so in the shadow of the doorway, illuminated by Yuri’s raw sex appeal and molten lava love for Otabek. The baby blue against his skin made him seem even paler, if it were possible, while the gold stitching matched his hair just right. Otabek felt a wet spot grow in his pants that would now have to be dry cleaned along with Yuri’s dress.

“You…fuck.” Otabek stuttered.

“No, I think it’s going to be you doing the fucking.” Yuri laughed his thunderstorm laugh that made Otabek feel small and powerful and god-like and like nothing at all. There was a whole world brewing in Yuri’s laugh.

Yuri strutted like a model forward and over to the bed where he was able to tip Otabek onto his back with just one finger.

Yuri slipped out of his heels but bent over to his record player, the one Otabek bought for him for their one-year anniversary, and selected a record with his ass in the air just to taunt.

 _you let me violate you_  
you let me desecrate you  
you let me penetrate you  
you let me complicate you  
  
“Don’t you think that’s a little on the nose?” Otabek laughed as Yuri danced to the song. Yuri unclipped the garter belt and delicately pulled off one of the thigh highs he had just put on a minute earlier.

“I don’t mind.”

The other stocking came off and Otabek pulled off his jacket.

The garter belt and Otabek’s tie hit the floor at the same time.

Yuri unhooked the bra but held it on as he looked down at Otabek who was now shirtless and panting on the bed. Yuri turned like he thought he was Dita fucking von Teese and wiggled his shoulders while letting the bra hit the floor. When he turned his hands covered his chest but slowly slid downwards, showing off his hard and pink nipples. Otabek had goosebumps.

“You first.” Yuri whispered.

Otabek stood to peel of his pants and his tight black briefs in one go, allowing his hard red cock to spring free.

“Do you trust me?” Yuri breathed.

“With my life.” Otabek responded, confused.

“Then you gotta trust me when I say I know what I’m doing. And that I want this, okay?”

“Okay.” His response was instant.

Yuri slid his hands down to his panties and teased them off. The fell down the columns of his legs and he stepped out of them with an easy grace befitting the world’s best. Otabek was under no delusion of his own greatness because the man before him was better than him in every way even when he protested that he wasn’t. The man in front of him could pull stars out of the sky if he wanted, he just didn’t want to, it was that simple.

Yuri scooted by Otabek where he stood and climbed onto the bed, laying down with his head just shy of the headboard. Otabek climbed on afterwards and began to kiss Yuri’s sweet red wine lips, drawing moans desperately out of his mouth. As they kissed the storm between them grew until lightning cracked – _yes, baby_ – and thunder followed – _please, more_ – allowing rain to fall from the sky onto their hot skin – _fuck, just like that_. Otabek slid his mouth, finally, onto Yuri’s cock after leaving a trail of red spots and purple berry bruises across his chest and sides and thighs. A marked, claimed Yuri made for a happy Otabek so Yuri allowed it, always, even when they couldn’t be hidden by costumes and workout clothes.

Otabek could taste nothing of the usual bitter taste of precome on Yuri’s hard dick because all he could taste was his lover, his Yura, his breathy moans and loud cackle laugh and flashy attitude that hid such a gentle boy inside, hidden away. He could taste the sweat of years of hard work and the piroshki he made when he was feeling housewife sweet. Otabek tasted the future on Yuri’s skin.

Yuri’s breath was picking up. He was breathing heavy, calming breaths trying not to get too worked up from the work Otabek was putting into sucking his soul out so Otabek picked up the pace like he usually did, in control, and grabbed lube from the side table without taking his mouth off of Yuri’s pink head.

His finger slid inside easily and Yuri shuddered a moan at the relief of being touched the way he wanted. Well, not quite the way he wanted. Yuri’s hand travelled up to his own throat where his diamond choker rested against his skin.

“Baby, please.” He stuttered when Otabek slipped in another finger and spread them apart just so.

“I’ve got you.” Otabek tried to reassure Yuri but his hips were lifting off the bed already with the need want lust of fire in his belly. His cock lay against his stomach, aching to be touched again but Otabek kept his mouth off of it, choosing instead to lick more and more hickeys into Yuri’s snow white skin.

The feeling of sweet, desperate pleasure in Yuri’s ass was overwhelming as Otabek’s thick and skilled fingers broke him down into his most basal pieces. He was want, the kind of want the rested inside him every day, and he was need in the same way he needed gold and he was lust, dripping and drooling at dinner but most of all he was love, a forest fire inside his cracked chest. Smoke came out of his mouth as he whimpered while Otabek pressed into his prostate time and time again.

Otabek’s third finger was in him and there was no more relief possible from what was happening. Every move was another scorch mark inside of Yuri’s body as he spread his legs begging for more. Otabek offered his tongue on his stretched rim which cooled him for just a second until he was tempered steel, sharp enough to cut and looking for a fight.

“I need you baby, please, just fuck me.”

“Is this all you wanted?” Otabek asked while he watched Yuri wiggle and squirm under him.

“No, please, God, just. It’s. I need you.” Yuri was losing his ability to speak which meant Otabek was getting closer to the issue at hand.

Otabek, god of mercy, slipped his hand out of Yuri’s needy body and wiped his fingers off on a baby wipe before pouring lube on himself. He pushed in slowly so Yuri could enjoy the feeling of being stretched even further like he knew he would. Yuri’s eyes were screwed up in the pleasure-pain of the first thrust so Otabek bent forward to kiss his eyelids and his scrunched forehead and then his mouth again while Yuri adjusted.

When Yuri opened one eye, and then the other, Otabek smiled down at him gently. Otabek’s eyes were as intense as ever, to Yuri, but his smile made his eyes crinkle at the sides the tiniest amount and Yuri felt a rush of affection course through his body.

“Okay. Um. What I want…” He started, trying to find the words in his brain against the feeling in his ass.

“I, um. Have you ever held your breath? While you masturbated?” Yuri continued.

Otabek smiled knowingly and traced his finger along the diamond necklace. He was too smart for his own good.

“Is this what you want?”

Yuri nodded, a little meekly.

“And you know how to do it?” Otabek asked again, thrusting forward and pulling out in a soft rocking motion. Yuri closed his eyes again at the pleasure before opening them to look at Otabek’s own throat where his tendons pushed out against his neck, completely kissable.

“Put your fingers on the sides, where my veins are. Pull your palm away from the front so there’s room. It’s about blood flow, not air.”

“Like this?”

Otabek gently unclasped the diamond choker, feeling the heat it absorbed for a moment before setting it aside and putting his cool hand on Yuri’s neck. It was so long and tender and delicate he was afraid of crushing him. He understood, finally, why Yuri asked if he trusted him because this was the ultimate moment of faith. He held Yuri’s life in his hands.

“If I put both my hands on your wrist it means stop. I might rest one of them there the whole time, but, both of them means no. Okay?”

He pressed his hand down, just so, and Yuri moaned, liking it already.  

Otabek thrust forward into Yuri again who spread his legs apart instinctively before moaning again when Otabek moved to hit his prostate.

Yuri looked up at Otabek. His hair, perfectly pushed back at the restaurant was now falling into his face. His eyes were dark and his mouth was set in a determined line but the red blush across his face under his tan skin gave away what he was feeling. Yuri put his head back as much as he could against the bed and opened up his neck for Otabek to see. With a kiss to Yuri’s windpipe his hand tightened.

The feeling, at first, was strange. Yuri could feel the pressure but not the effects of what was happening but as Otabek slowly, so so slowly, tightened his grip and his brain got fuzzy from everything that was happening Yuri smiled to himself because this was every fucked up, years old fantasy coming true. He gasped, trying to feed his brain oxygen.

The sound of his rattling breath made Otabek pull away.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Otabek’s hand returned and Yuri tilted his head back without hesitation. This time was a little faster and Otabek’s grip was tighter until Yuri was rattling again and his cock was harder than ever against his belly. Precome was smearing against him as Otabek thrust into him, making the bed shake a little bit.

Yuri’s vision got blurry and he gasped for air as Otabek fucked him. He was hitting his prostate every time, likely on purpose, and it became overwhelming. Yuri put his hands up and Otabek backed off immediately but continued to pound into him the same way.

Otabek was sweating a little above Yuri and he smelled like deodorant and cologne and everything that was sexy so Yuri thrust his hips back at his baby Beka. It was hard in missionary but they made it work because they were strong and flexible and in love. Otabek drove deeper and deeper each time until Yuri felt like he was full to bursting. He moaned and whined in Otabek’s ear until they were both shaking from the pleasure building between them.

Otabek straightened up and pulled Yuri towards him until he was nearly bent in two, ass up in Otabek’s lap. He could reach further this way.

Otabek was large. Not only was he strong enough with his athlete’s body to fuck for days but his cock always made Yuri feel like he was on the edge of orgasm from the first press. They used to fuck with condoms, too, but Yuri wanted to be filled until he leaked out onto his clothes and so they stopped until they fucked raw almost every day when Otabek visited. Otabek like it, too, when he bent over the kitchen table and let Yuri push into him without enough prep. He said he liked the feeling. Yuri knew he liked it rough in more ways than one and took every opportunity to use his greater height and larger hands against Beka.

Now, though, it was Otabek in charge of everything. He was taking care of the pace and the hardness and Yuri’s needs so easily it was like he was meant to do nothing but. As Yuri’s cock wept precome and bounced while Otabek pounded into him Otabek snuck his hand forward again, dragging against his skin to play with his chest for a moment before laying against his throat. His other went down to Yuri’s cock, teasing around his shaft before gripping his head and making the perfect O for Yuri to thrust his hips into.

This time was slow, again, until Yuri was resting in the space between struggle and intrigue. His vision blurred and his head felt full of smoke and mist and mirrors, reflecting light inwards but not illuminating anything, while he pulled in weak breath after weak breath. He had enough air to remain floating in between their bedroom and the inside of his eyelids.

 “I’m close, baby.” Otabek growled while fisting Yuri’s cock even harder.

Yuri couldn’t answer so he just moved his head in an approximation of a nod to indicate he was close, too.

Sex required trust, implicitly, but this was something beyond just trust. It was pure godly faith, _you hold me in your hands_ faith, and Yuri had never been one to believe in the ghosts and monsters that lingered in the bible but he understood a little, now, how everyone else did. Otabek was hunched over him, blocking everything else in the world out.

The pressure in his ass and on his cock and on his goddmned throat made Yuri came first but Otabek followed, driven to the edge by the clench-release-clench of Yuri’s ass trying to suck him in as far as he could go.

Otabek’s hand remained tight against Yuri’s neck for a moment after they both came. He was still holding on to him when it wasn’t just sex, anymore. There was a metaphor in that Yuri realized.   

Otabek slid out and Yuri could feel come slipping out of his ass but he couldn’t find the energy to care as he took big just-tried-a-quad-axle breaths. He stopped floating and anchored himself down into the bed again, curling over to Beka’s chest once he laid down next to him. They panted in time for a while and traded smiles and tired little kissed before they could talk. The room smelt like sex.

“If you want to try something just let me know.” Yuri said, pushing himself up on his forearms so he was twisted and half on top of Otabek. His voice was rough, more so than it normally was, so he leant down to kiss Otabek’s wet mouth to distract him. They kissed, lips locked together for hours or minutes or days, sharing breaths between each other.

When Yuri pulled back to gasp a real lungful of air, still dizzy, Otabek smiled up at him. He looked calm and openly happy, wearing the real smile on his face that was so rare in crowds.

“You ever fuck in public?” He grinned while he spoke.

“No, but I trust you.” Yuri smiled, too, and leaned down to kiss Otabek again.

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to write, like, real fic but I couldn't focus because of massive badbrain so you get porn instead. 
> 
> yall: daddybek  
> me: soft-top service boy-bek
> 
> dress: http://neimanmarcus.scene7.com/is/image/NeimanMarcus/NMTV6HE_10_m?&wid=456&height=570  
> bra (in blue): http://images.neimanmarcus.com/ca/1/product_assets/I/0/P/5/M/NMI0P5M_mu.jpg


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